Begrudging Voice
by Restless Abhorsen
Summary: The tale of Amelia, the reluctant elven cleric to the Goddess of Fortune, Tyche.


Begrudging Voice

The Misadventures of Amelia (Quithyra) Nyx

* * *

" _I think I'm done Emi," Nick said, setting down his tankard of ale on the table with a dull thud. He tore into the hunk of bread he had sitting on his plate to soak up the juices from the roasted beef._

" _Done? What do you mean?" come her puzzled reply. Nick was one of the best, living a rich, low-key life off the hard earned coin of the wealthy and well-off._

 _He swallowed that bite and took another before looking up to meet her eyes, speaking with a partially full mouth. "I'm done playing this game. I'm tired of the lies and deceit, tired of looking over my shoulder, expecting a knife in the back."_

" _Well you wouldn't be if you ever bothered to play by the rules," she scoffed while taking a leisurely drink from her wine glass, savoring the taste as it slid over her tongue and down her throat. "Besides, you know people like us don't quit from this life. We just end up dead in the street from a pissed off mark."_

 _That wasn't wholly true, people like Nick ended up dead because con-artists made many, many enemies. People like her however, they only made a handful, but smuggling and trading favors had its own dangers, from both sides of the law._

 _Nick's brows drew together as he stared down into his drink before he looked around the room for a moment, his wild eyes darting to and fro, checking the room for an unseen threat. "Yeah…well, I'm done either way. I've got a good amount saved up, so I'm gonna pack up here and move on. Maybe I'll go smaller city this time." He took a deep breath and smiled, a cocky grin far more typical of his relaxed outlook._

 _Amelia smiled and raised her glass. "To new beginnings then."_

* * *

Nick never got his new beginning though. Two days later Amelia saw him, face down in a gutter, just as she predicted. She wasn't psych or a diviner; just a jaded, old-hat in the seedy underworld of city life. The murder saddened her for a couple of days, she wasn't a heartless monster; but one had to move on with their own lives, and hers was a busy one.

That was ten years ago now, a lot has happened for Amelia in the time between, and even though she was an elf with a lot of time ahead of her, she wasn't one for reminiscing. Her memory of Nick only popped to her mind because her own situation was growing eerily similar.

"Wake her up! I want this shit done today!" a man yelled. Even though a smelly sack covered her head, she knew owner of that voice. Jax, a common thief and burglar who had just enough of a reputation and influence to head a small gang. He recently branched out into smuggling as well, which proved to be problematic for Amelia, and she always got rid of problems. In this case it was having a friend within the thieves' guild 'interrupt' his operations every now and then.

A forceful hand pushed on her head before ripping the sack off, messing up her hair and throwing it into her face. Tossing her head back, Amelia cleared most of it out of the way, as much as she could with her hands tied to the back of the chair she was placed in a while ago.

Now that she could see, she took a quick look around the room she was in. It was some kind of warehouse, large, full of boxes and crate of all shapes and sizes, with light coming in from several pairs of windows at the top of the two-story room. The room looked and smelled dusty, which meant she was in mid-town, or at least close enough that the ever-present rot and mold that plagued the storage buildings around the docks wouldn't be found here.

This was good, she had some contacts around the business district. A couple of whom owed her a favor or two, so when she got out of here finding a place to lay low short while wouldn't be a problem. No, her biggest problem now was the tall, broad shouldered man standing in front of her, and his five lackeys around the room.

"Hello sweetie," he sneered, leaning over and getting in her face. "Did you sleep well?" He chuckled as though his question was something terribly clever.

"Oh, you know me, there's nothing I love more on a Tuesday afternoon then getting clubbed on the head and kidnapped."

Jax chuckled. "Well now, that wouldn't have been necessary if you'd have stopped fucking with my shipments," he nearly shouted at her. "And so, now I have to hold you here until we get this little situation resolved. Do you know why I had my boys tie you up here?"

"Because you're incapable of keeping women around you without money or rope?" She quipped, unperturbed as she met his gaze.

He smiled darkly as he straightened and loomed over her. "I always told you that mouth of yours was going to get you in trouble one day. But, today – today we're going to fix this little problem you and I have, and while we're at it, you're going to serve as an example."

"So in a minute, me and my boys are going to have some fun with you, beat you within an inch of your life, and then leave you out in the street, so everyone knows not to fuck with my business!" He started pacing around the small square of light that surrounded her chair. On one of the passes he stopped in front of her again, this time reaching out to grab a strand of her hair. "I don't care for elves much – but for you, I'll make an exception."

Amelia kept her face impassive, trying to look disinterested with his threats, but her heart began hammering away within her chest. She needed to stall for more time, get them to mess up and then get out of here. "Well…word on the street is it's not my race that'll be the problem now is it, Jaxy?" She smirked.

A loud smack reverberated through the warehouse as Amelia's head was wretched to the side from the force of the backhanded slap, working her jaw she could feel her cheek bruising already. She straighten up in the chair, shaking her hair out of her face once again, blood drippled from her spilt lip.

Jax chuckled as he reigned in his anger, he was seething as he leaned forward again. "What did I say about that mouth, my sweet, sweet Amelia?"

Amelia was struggling to find a way out of this predicament, she has gotten through a lot of tight spots in her sixty years of smuggling, but this one was going to be tough. Maybe she'd get lucky and these morons would just vanish.

"Hey boss! We've got a problem out front! A big one."

Everybody in the room perked up and looked to the panting look-out in the doorway. Jax turned and waved to gather his toadies. "Come on, let's go take care of this. That way we're not interrupted later," he laughed as he looked over his shoulder at Amelia. He and his men stepped into the darker portion of the room and out through the doorway.

The sound of bolt sliding into place on the door was the last thing she heard after the ruckus laughter in the hallway faded. She tested the ropes on her legs and arms, they were stuck fast. Amelia began looking around the room again, trying to see if there was anything she could use that she may have missed earlier.

"My my my; you seem to have landed yourself in quite the pickle, haven't you Quithyra," a smooth, male voice sounded from somewhere in the massive room.

"Who's there?" she called out. "How do you know that name?"

Out from behind a large crate stepped a tall, middle-aged man; where he came from she had no idea, he certainly didn't look like one of Jax's crew. He was dressed in nice, crisp, clean clothing: a white, long-sleeved shirt, black slacks, a plaid, gray waistcoat, and a thin, silver tie which matched his surprisingly silver hair. It wasn't a premature gray-white mix either, but true silver; it was odd given his apparent age, but all-in-all he looked quite dashing and well put together. He was definitely not one of Jax's men.

He walked forward and leaned against the crate he was hiding behind, crossing his arms and kicking up a leg as he looked Amelia up and down for a second. "You may call me Alistair," he said, flashing a dazzling smile at her. "And believe it or not, I'm here to help you."

"How so, and for what?"

He shook his head and tsk-ed playfully. "Ever the skeptic."

"I have good reason to be. I know there's no such thing as a free lunch. Everyone needs something or has something to gain from helping people."

"Well, you're not wrong. I'm currently in the service of a goodness, she's little known in this world, but we're hoping to change that. At her behest, I'm here to free you – if you promise to serve as her voice in this world."

Amelia thought for a moment, trying to get her bearings with this new variable. She needed to process this offer and figure out the catch. "So you're what? An angel? And how do you know my name?" She challenged.

Alistair rocked his head side-to-side, debating how to answer her questions. "In a word – yes. Though I don't prefer it. The word angel too often conjures an image of white robes and large, feathery wings; and as you can see that would most assuredly clash with my style." He said the last while waving a hand down the front of his vest and tie. "But as far as you're concerned, I am an angel."

"As for the name," he chuckled lightly, "my dear, there is little mortals can do to hide anything from the gods. For them one's true name is a trivial thing to find; it's tied intrinsically to who you are, Quithyra. But that is neither here nor there. So, what say you; do you accept my lady's gracious offer?"

"What happens if decline?"

"Then the illusion distracting those men will end and they will come back here to finish their business with you. Sadly, I doubt Jax will keep his word and leave you alive." He said gravely, actually managing to look sorrowful as he considered her fate.

"Talk about a rock and a hard place," she muttered to herself. It wasn't a great deal, it certainly gave her what she needed right now, but for servitude to an unknown goddess; it did not bode well for her. She sat for another minute, going back and forth over her options and they all came up the same; take the offer or suffer a painful, distressing death at the hands of Jax and his men.

She swallowed and took a deep breath before looking up and meeting Alistair's eyes. "Okay, I'll do it. I will become a servant to your goddess."

He smiled again, somehow more radiantly than before. "Wonderful! Here you will need this." Reaching into the pocket of his waistcoat, he pulled out a strange looking coin and flicked it up and over to Amelia.

It flashed in the dusty sunlight as it twirled in the air, causing Amelia's eyes to wince before she instinctively clapped it between her hands. The ropes dangling from her wrists were the first clue of her freedom, the second was the fact that she caught the coin. Looking down she finally realized all of her bindings had come loose, pulling off the strands around her arms and tugging at the rope around her ankles left her free to stand once more.

Now she studied the coin in her hands; it had five sides and looked to be red with rust, but didn't leave any smudges when she rubbed it between her fingers. The picture was a simple profile of a robed woman, her features blurred and unremarkable.

"Now the real test begins," Alistair said, drawing Amelia's gaze back to him. "That coin is your clue and key to getting out of here."

Amelia's brows climbed up in alarm. "Wait, key? Aren't I just coming with you?"

"Not quite. You see, you have piqued my lady's interest, but so have others." He left the support of the crate and started walking up to Amelia, his fingers steepled together between the occasional gesture. "Now, she would certainly enjoy to have the services of all of you, but few will accept her offer; and even fewer will prove worthy of her power. You, my dear Amelia, have to escape this warehouse by yourself, and avoid getting caught again as Jax's men."

He stopped just before her and softly placed his hands on her arms, looking deep into her eyes as he spoke. "I know you don't trust me, or think this must be a farce, but for what it's worth, you chose well, and I know you have it in you to succeed."

Amelia was speechless for a second, struggling to find her wits as he stood so close to her. "How…how will this help?" She asked, holding up the coin between them.

"That will allow you to go invisible for ten seconds whenever you activate the spell placed upon it. Then give it, oh, to about the count of thirty before using again."

"Wait! Just ten seconds?" Amelia shook herself out of the stupor that fell upon her a moment ago.

Alistair laughed, stepping back from Amelia a couple of paces. "Oh my, I forgot how wonderful it was to work with you mortals. Nothing ever seems to be enough. Yes, just ten seconds, that is plenty of time. Get creative, you can do it." He flashed yet another smile, and gave her a small bow. "I shall see you soon, Quithyra."

With that, he vanished. No smoke, no sound, just gone; like he wasn't there to begin with. Amelia stared at the space he was in, puzzled at the entire affair; until the shouts and yelling outside the doors picked up. She looked to one of the corners that had plenty of crates stacked unevenly, all leading up to the catwalk that ringed the upper floor and ran next to the windows.

She smiled, a small, vulpine grin. This deal was something she had to figure out – later. For now, she had somewhere else to be; anywhere but here. Setting the coin on her thumb, she flicked it into the air, disappearing before it even landed back in her palm.


End file.
